


let there be light

by silentbutdeadly



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Meet-Cute, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:21:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22827076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentbutdeadly/pseuds/silentbutdeadly
Summary: The first thing Felix thinks is: That guy's hair isreallyfucking orange.His mouth says: "Get out of my space unless you really want to be in it."
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 127





	let there be light

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BEST BOY FELIX!
> 
> I've never written for Fire Emblem before (I'm, uh, not even done my first playthrough), but honestly, who else would I take the plunge for if not _Felix_?
> 
> Thanks to Claire for proofreading and Lavin for emotional support :'). Love you guys!

The first thing Felix thinks is: _That guy's hair is really fucking orange._

His mouth says: "Get out of my space unless you _really_ want to be in it."

The man beside Felix pauses his conversation with a leggy blond and turns to look at him. He's taller than Felix expected; the relaxed slouch of his body against the counter hides a solid chest and broad shoulders made wider by the man's leather jacket. A wry little smile dances on his mouth, like a seasoned matador playing with his newest bull. Even in the dimness of the bar, Felix can feel the man's eyes making their way down to his chest, almost as if the man had reached out and actually touched him. Not that he'd let that happen.

"That's the strangest way anyone's ever hit on me," the man says. 

Felix scoffs. "I'm not hitting on you." He puts his drink down with as much derision as he can muster. "I have a _problem_ with you. Clearly, nobody ever taught you to stay on your side of the table."

The man grins and ducks his head. It's bashful and charming and fake, all at once. "Oh, my bad, uh - sorry, what was your name again?" he asks.

"I never gave it," Felix replies.

"Right," the man continues, "so it would be—"

"None of your business."

"Ouch," he says, "tough crowd."

Felix looks pointedly at the man's elbow. "People tend to be hostile when threatened," he says. He grabs the man's forearm."You'd do well to remember that."

"You don't seem like the kind of guy who'd be intimidated by me," the man says. His own hand closes over Felix's wrist, linking their arms in a bizarre chain.

Whatever mind game this guy is playing, Felix will have none of it. "That's because I'm not."

" _Really_ ," the man says in half-truthed wonder. "So, you'd be down to come back to mine?"

—

Sylvain wakes up to hair in his mouth. A lot of it.

He sticks his tongue out and peels the thick, dark strands from his mouth. He’d spit it out, usually, but for some reason, he has a feeling that whoever’s in his bed won’t take kindly to being woken up with saliva all over his neck. 

The fact is, he’s surprised that his one-night stand’s still here. He remembers hot, sweaty skin, and thighs gripped around his waist like a vise; he spent most of the night breathless, taken by both the stranger’s beauty and relentless athleticism. Even in his sleep, his strength is obvious; Sylvain only needs to look at the curve of his back to know that dense, trained muscle lay underneath soft skin.

If Sylvain let him sleep in his bed until morning, he was probably worn out in more ways than one. 

It doesn’t matter, in the end; the man wakes up and stiffens so quickly that the two moments are almost indistinguishable.

Might as well help him out. “You had a one night stand with a guy you didn’t even introduce yourself to,” Sylvain pipes up. 

“I’m aware,” the stranger says, “I remember last night.” His voice is husky from disuse and overuse -- Sylvain remembers him being a repressed moaner, straining his vocal chords to keep quiet as Sylvain fucked into him. He didn’t need to try so hard; Sylvain lives in a nice apartment, where the walls are thick enough to hide most nighttime activities unless you’re _really_ getting it on. 

The stranger takes stock of the room. Sylvain hopes he notices how clean it is for a dude living alone in his mid-twenties. The only mess is their clothes, scattered across the floor, but he can’t exactly be blamed for that. The man’s eyes linger on his trophies from high school, crammed into a badly thought out display case.

“It’s a good thing it’s a Saturday,” Sylvain says. Hazel eyes dart back to him, in wariness and surprise. “No need to worry about showing up to work with a hangover. Or showing up at all, heh.” All he gets is a blank stare, and he sighs. 

“Okay, look, pal,” he says, as if that doesn’t make the man bristle even more. He’s like a cat, silent and defensive; it’s only funnier that he’s naked in Sylvain’s bed, with only the blankets bunched around his waist. Sylvain can’t help but think of the pretty dick he deepthroated only hours before, even as explains his way into this guy’s good graces. “My name’s Sylvain, you’re in my apartment, we had a bunch of hot bendy sex in my bed, which you’re still in, by the way. We’re still downtown; we’re like, I don’t know, maybe fifteen, twenty minutes away from The Boar’s Head? Definitely didn’t go far. Anyway, you clearly need a few moments to yourself, Mr. I’m-Not-Threatened-By-You, so I’ll let you put your pants on in peace.” He pulls his own underwear on and grabs last night’s shirt as he heads out the door.

He’s just started making eggs when he hears the soft pad of feet coming towards him. He ignores it and focuses on getting his eggs just on the right side of overeasy. The man coughs, and Sylvain makes sure to flinch before he turns around.

“I didn’t see you there!” he says. Okay, maybe he’s overdoing it, especially with the way the other guy raises his eyebrow, but better safe than sorry with this one. He’s dressed already, kitted out in his clothes from the night before. A good sign of a swift departure. “I’m making breakfast; you can have the first batch of eggs if you want.” It’s an empty invitation, but he takes the pan off the stove and slides his eggs onto the empty plate on the kitchen counter. He puts the bacon in the pan to sizzle. 

“I’m…good, thanks,” the stranger says. Shifts from one foot to the other. 

Sylvain might as well put him out of his misery. “Suit yourself,” he says. “Thanks for being the best lay I’ve had in a while.” He winks, and is surprised to see blotches of red pop up on the stranger’s cheeks.

“Your best lay is named Felix,” he says. “See you around, Sylvain.”

He disappears before Sylvain has a chance to reply.

_Felix._


End file.
